


Valid argument

by lazlong



Category: NCIS
Genre: Crack, Defeated expectations, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazlong/pseuds/lazlong
Summary: DiNozzo, Senior, is difficult to persuade.





	Valid argument

**Author's Note:**

> NCIS 15 minute writing challenge - #1

The house is calm, the air is wet and cold with mist of early spring and prickly smell of new leaves, opening and growing. Both cars are here, just as he was told they will be. Ergo, he is here as well.

He opens door, the entrance door and it is so strange to find it unlocked that for a moment he doubts his sanity: entering the building, at night, without warning, and not finding any obstacles in his way. Bat, like in a B-class film his boy enjoys so much, sweeps over his head, then another. Bad omen, this is very bad omen. And rotting leaves, mixing with smell of fresh earth, urges him to turn back; retreat, never ever coming back again.

Still, he never has achieved anything, when giving into doubts or second-guessing lighting-quick decisions, so he carries on.  
One, two - close the door, it does not make a sound when closing, just old wood and brand new handle; three, four - enter the living room; time is stretching so long and seconds are rushing along, trickling down his back, posing as cold sweat.  
But he knows better, it is not sweat, these are moments of his life, trickling away, if he won't take from his wayward, gullible son what is rightly his.. his son has a lot of time yet to come, his son can earn money once again, but he.. couple of years, and he will be dead. It is duty, duty of his naive son to support his dad, help him to enjoy the life.

Five, six – check the basement. It is cold, and dark, and boat is here – just as he was told. But nobody's here, nobody. May be he was mistaken? Misinformed.  
No.. he will go on, and on, till he will get what he was coming for. Nothing is going to stop him, nothing, not his cold sweat, not his traitorously trembling hands, nothing at all..

Seven, eighth – trot the stairs. Stairs to stars, to his bright and beautiful future.. Slowly, slowly, it is dark, and there is light, full moon shining, when trouble goes around.. Focus, you old fool, you can do this, you will do this, you will hunt him down, give a hope and melt him down, and will have your happily ever after – in Bahamas or Mexico, Italy or Spain - it doesn't matter. Just march on.. you are up, and open the door, all of them are fools, waiting to be fooled, waiting to be tricked..

The moon is full, and the light is beautiful, reflecting brightly from the metal, pointed at him.  
Here lies his supposedly gullible son, fast asleep, shaggy hair over face.. how many times have I told him to get a proper haircut!  
Here lies his Junior, naked as a day he was born – not that he remembers the day well, it was too long ago - covered by six feet of hard muscles promising quick death to him, the innocent con-man, who just came for a quick visit; the shoulders, guarding his wayward offspring even in the deepest sleep, are impossibly wide; and dark, dark eyes, promising soon end right now are downright scary.

He knows, the eyes should be blue, bright blue and hard, he has seen them and hasn't believed his gut, but they are bottomless, dark and insane right now; and the shock of white hair and full erection registers on his retina only when he starts retreating to close the door; but it is too much, too soon – the mad, mad world where harmless, old man can't come asking for a help from his only son, without being afraid for his life. What this world is coming to, no respect to the old and those in need..


End file.
